


To Fit Myself In The Spaces Between

by tookumade



Series: Haikyuu!! MatsuHana Week - 2015 [4]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-06
Updated: 2015-08-06
Packaged: 2018-04-13 07:39:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,459
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4513536
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tookumade/pseuds/tookumade
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's late, a boring movie is on TV, and the remote control is nowhere in sight—and that suited them just fine.</p><p>(written for Haikyuu!! MatsuHana Week - Day 4 - midnight, no control)</p>
            </blockquote>





	To Fit Myself In The Spaces Between

**Author's Note:**

> This is THE most self-indulgent thing I've ever written for these two.

“We could rock-paper-scissors for it,” said Hanamaki.  
  
“No.”  
  
“Arm-wrestle?”  
  
“How is that any better than rock-paper-scissors?”  
  
“Shiritori?”  
  
“I can’t be bothered thinking of words.”  
  
“Wow, you’re worse than I am.”  
  
“One: I literally always win at shiritori, two: this movie is draining everything from me, and three: you’re leeching all my energy.”  
  
“Excuse me,” said Hanamaki, “you’re currently using me as a pillow, so who’s the leech?”  
  
Matsukawa just mumbled incoherently and shifted his position a little.  
  
“Since you’re too much of a lazy ass,” Hanamaki continued, “ _I’ll_ find the remote control, but you have to get off me first.”  
  
“No.”  
  
“Our electricity bill is going to kill us if we don’t turn it off.”  
  
“Five more minutes.”  
  
“It’s nearly midnight. The TV has been on for the past _five hours_ , Issei.”  
  
“Then five more minutes won’t hurt.”  
  
“ _Issei_.”  
  
“It’s been a long day,” Matsukawa mumbled into Hanamaki’s chest. “Let me have this for a bit.”  
  
“Oh my god,” said Hanamaki, feeling his resolve melting away. “Okay, _fine_ , five more minutes.”  
  
Matsukawa actually huffed a little laugh. “Thank you. You’re a total sucker, but thank you.”  
  
This wasn’t at all bad, thought Hanamaki as Matsukawa burrowed against him. He was half-lying and half-sitting across the couch in their living room and Matsukawa, having started off sitting reasonably upright and simply using Hanamaki’s shoulder as a pillow, was now sprawled over him with his head resting comfortably on Hanamaki’s chest. It had been a very gradual change over the course of a few hours; Hanamaki couldn’t actually remember moving to the point of their current positions.  
  
His eyes flickered back to the TV screen; it was some romantic drama, or maybe it was a sort of detective film? Or both? It was hard to tell. Either way, the volume had been turned down before Matsukawa became a complete parasite and they somehow lost the remote, and now filled their living room with just the soft buzz of dialogue. He had long since given up trying to understand what the film was about, and wondered why they didn’t switch off the TV earlier. Well, he supposed he should count his blessings; it could’ve been a horror movie, or even worse, a badly-acted infomercial…  
  
“Five minutes is up.”  
  
Matsukawa began making snoring noises that were too conveniently timed to be real.  
  
“Unbelievable,” said Hanamaki. “Is this what it’s like when you try to wake me up in the morning?”  
  
“Nah.”  
  
“Really?”  
  
“It’s much, _much_ worse in the morning.”  
  
Hanamaki sighed. “I walked right into that one.”  
  
“As a result, I get to stay here a little longer.”  
  
“It’s not a _competition_ , dumbass!”  
  
“But I’m still winning.”  
  
Hanamaki gave yet another small defeated sigh. Matsukawa looked so relaxed though, and he didn’t really have the heart to forcibly kick him awake, at least just yet. Gingerly, he ran his fingers through his wavy hair, tracing random gentle lines; he always loved it when Matsukawa did that to him, so if he tried it…  
  
The soft sigh that followed from Matsukawa was good encouragement. Hanamaki continued, fingers working their way over his skin and clothes experimentally—stopping whenever Matsukawa twitched uncomfortably (down the side of his neck, down his cheek close to his ear), and brushing over and over again whenever he hummed contently (over his forehead, the back of his neck, his shoulders and his upper back). He tried to memorise as many details as he could; everything Matsukawa liked and to which degree, judging by the soft sounds he made.  
  
He wasn’t as good as Matsukawa was at this; Matsukawa knew all the right ways to get Hanamaki feeling like putty, and Hanamaki took full advantage of that as often as he could. The result was that he had less practice, and though he intended to use this chance to make up for it, this made him feel a little guilty.  
  
“Are you comfortable?” he murmured.  
  
“Hmrgghh,” Matsukawa replied sleepily.  
  
“Is… was that a yes?”  
  
“Mmm. Keep doing the thing on my back– yeeaah, that…”  
  
“God, you’re like a giant house cat.”  
  
“Meow.”  
  
“Don’t ever do that again.”  
  
He drew small, slow circles across Matsukawa’s back with his thumb. The movie’s credits were rolling now, but his eyes were too tired to focus on the text. He glanced around the couch hopefully, trying to see if he could glimpse the elusive remote control sticking out from somewhere, but no such luck. It seemed he really would have to get up to find it.  
  
“I can hear your heart beating,” Matsukawa murmured suddenly. Hanamaki looked down at him in surprise.  
  
“What am I supposed to say to that? ‘Oh, what a shock, I didn’t know it could do that’?”  
  
“I mean it’s nice,” said Matsukawa. “We don’t get to do this very often these days because we’re so busy, so just lying like this is really… I like it. You’re really warm.”  
  
“Oh… well, okay,” said Hanamaki. “I’ll try to do this for you more often.”  
  
There was a pause, before Matsukawa said, “You don’t have to feel guilty, you know.”  
  
“I… what?”  
  
Matsukawa shifted his head a little and peeked up at Hanamaki sleepily. “I know you well enough to know that you feel bad for not doing this as much as I do for you.”  
  
“Issei–”  
  
“And I don’t want you feeling bad about it, okay? Because I don’t mind at all. I like doing this for you, too.”  
  
Hanamaki ran a gentle thumb over his forehead. “I can’t hide a thing from you, can I?”  
  
“I’ve known you for years; I pick up hints,” said Matsukawa with a smile. He closed his eyes again as Hanamaki bent his head and pressed a soft kiss to his hair.  
  
“Thank you,” he murmured.  
  
“It’s fine.”  
  
Hanamaki gave a soft chuckle and resumed working his fingers over Matsukawa’s back and the nape of his neck, but after a while, the movie credits had on the TV had ended, and the beginnings of a terrible infomercial involving some high-tech fruit juicer was spilling onto the screen.  
  
“Issei, I need to find the remote control to turn off the TV.”  
  
“Check between the couch cushions first. Maybe your ass pushed it there.”  
  
“Who says it was mine?” said Hanamaki, slipping his free hand between the cushions with a little difficulty, and feeling around clumsily. “Maybe it's on your side because _your_ ass– ah, nope, found it; it was my ass after all.”  
  
“See? I know your ass very well.”  
  
Hanamaki almost displaced him as he burst out laughing. The buzzing that had been sound from the TV abruptly stopped as Hanamaki calmed down and pressed the off button on the remote control and set it upon the couch’s arm. They stayed that way for a little longer; Hanamaki was brushing his fingers up and down the back of Matsukawa’s neck again, and Matsukawa gave a long, deep sigh.  
  
“Issei,” said Hanamaki softly after a while, “let’s go to bed. Come up, get up, we can continue this. Your room?”  
  
“Mm.”  
  
Hanamaki began to shift upright with a groan— _god_ that was going to be bad for his back—and Matsukawa eventually followed suit, pushing himself up and rubbing his eyes. Hanamaki’s fingers curled gently around his wrist, and he tugged him off the couch, not letting go until they shuffled their way through their apartment and into Matsukawa’s room, where they snuggled and tucked themselves around each other comfortably under his covers. Hanamaki’s fingers were once again threading gently through Matsukawa’s hair and down his neck and back.  
  
“Go to sleep, Takahiro,” said Matsukawa, more mumble than words.  
  
“I will after you do. You always do that for me.”  
  
“I already said I don’t mind.”  
  
“I know. But let me have this too, okay?”  
  
He heard Matsukawa yawn.  
  
“You’re such a dork,” he murmured. “In a good way. I wouldn’t swap you for anyone.” Hanamaki laughed softly.  
  
“Right back at you, dork. Go to sleep.”  
  
“Goodnight, Takahiro.”  
  
“Goodnight, Issei.”  
  
They had been through a lot together: realising their feelings in senior high and falling in love and dating; fighting and making up; travelling and coming back to make a home here; late nights and early mornings; lively outings and quiet nights in, just like tonight… he traced all this against Matsukawa’s skin, knowing he understood perfectly, knowing they had so many more days and nights to look forward to together. This was beautiful, this was perfect, this was everything they ever needed.  
  
It was only when he heard Matsukawa’s breathing become deep and even with sleep, that his fingers stopped. With a small smile and another soft kiss pressed to his forehead, Hanamaki closed his eyes and after a short while, he fell asleep too.


End file.
